


Anniversary

by spellwing777



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: At least someone gets a happy ending in this depressing comic, Fandom speculation, Four legged chicken, M/M, d'aaw, kinkmeme fill, short but sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 18:31:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3906385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellwing777/pseuds/spellwing777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nellie and Rolf have their own little night out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversary

Wrestling him into a tux had been the hardest part; Rolf hadn’t worn it in ages and while he would never admit it, things _did_ change, and that included his waist. Oh sure, he worked out and kept himself fit-which Nelly appreciated, perhaps a bit too much-but being over the hill did things to a man’s metabolism, none of it good. Still, with him sucking in his belly to get the damn pants over his hips, it fit; even if it was a bit snug.

Nelly ran his palms over the slick lapels, straightening them, and stepped back to admire his handiwork. The figure he cut was always imposing, but the suit made it sleeker, smoother; less a bear and more like a big cat. 

_Lion._ He thought, almost immediately. The memory of watching this man heft trapeze artists on each arm with the caged felines roaring in the background sprang up; so bright and so real that he could almost smell the popcorn. He smiled.

“Enjoying the view?” The purring voice made him shiver.

“I’ve always had a weakness for sharp-dressed men.” He confessed, and ran his hands over the lapels again, this time just for the pleasure of it. Almost immediately his hands were caught and stilled.

“Hmm. Your reason for joining the military, perhaps?” Nelly sighed when one hand was brought up to the surprisingly soft lips; the facial hair tickling his knuckles. Rolf was playing nice, which he liked, but there was a predatory gleam in his eyes that promised things later and he enjoyed that even more.

“It wasn’t _the_ reason; but I certainly wasn’t complaining.” He gently disengaged his hand, and started heading for the door. They had to get moving if they wanted to make it to the restaurant in time for their reservation.

\---

Rolf had sniffed in distrust at the four legged chicken; but that didn’t stop him eating it. It amused him, the way he delicately nibbled at the bones like a very refined carnivore, and he couldn’t help but smile. He smiled back and grasped his hand, swiping his thumb over the palm. Nelson blinked, surprised at this public display of affection, but he suspected he was feeling the same sense of freedom and relief that he was enjoying.

Even before they were forced to hide from the witch-hunting government and its pet attack dog, they still had to hide parts of themselves from the world at large. It was a different time back then, and he wasn’t about to delude himself that today’s world still didn’t have its share of intolerance, but it was...better. A little.  


It was even better that a certain vengeful bastard was lying in the morgue; and he smiled a little fiercely to himself. The government no longer saw reds everywhere and had stopped their manhunt for them long ago, but Blake kept a grudge a lot longer than politicians. He’d only been half convinced by the body found washed up on the shore; and had started nosing around Nelson, keeping him from joining Rolf in their rustic getaway in Virginia for _years_ until a good, convincing car crash finally shook him.

On this special eve, it was a new age, and their old nemesis was dead. He could finally, _finally_ celebrate their anniversary in the open; identities and relationship free to be exposed at last. Rolf must have been reading the look on his face, because his lips twitched in amusement under the moustache. He picked up a delicate flute of champagne-tiny in those calloused hands-for a toast.

“To our late college.” He rumbled. “The funniest man in the morgue.”

Nelson chuckled and tapped his own glass to his.

**Author's Note:**

> For that little anon on the [7th kinkmeme](http://watchmen-km.dreamwidth.org/287.html?thread=23071#cmt23071) that asked for Nelly/Rolf. What inspired it was that whole fandom speculation on who were the two white-haired gentlemen in the foreground at that fancy-dancy restaurant. Being an eternal optimist, I agreed that it was Rolf and Nellie, out on a date.


End file.
